


Measured Tension

by NedrynWrites



Category: Dragon Quest Series, Dragon Quest XI
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Dragon Quest XI Act II Spoilers, Dragon Quest XI Act III Spoilers, El has an accident with the measuring tape, Erik gets rekt 2k20, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Friends to Lovers, Hair-pulling, Hero | Luminary is Named Eleven | El (Dragon Quest XI), M/M, Making Out, Miscommunication, Mute Hero | Luminary (Dragon Quest XI), and also Erik's ding dong, giggly sex, takes place in postgame but there are only really spoilers if you know what to look for
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-17
Updated: 2020-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:09:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23179003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NedrynWrites/pseuds/NedrynWrites
Summary: Palace life didn't often require armor, but Erik was a wanderer, and he needed something to suit that life, even if he did still spend most of his time home in the castle.By my side,Eleven's pining brain supplemented.  He told it to shut up.Or:Erik needs to get fitted for new armor.  Eleven needs to watch where he puts his hands.
Relationships: Camus | Erik/Hero | Luminary (Dragon Quest XI)
Comments: 28
Kudos: 107





	Measured Tension

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SecretlyACatLady](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SecretlyACatLady/gifts).



> Eleven is mute and uses sign language, depicted within apostrophes.
> 
> Rated Explicit 'cause they FAWKIN'
> 
> Eleven and Erik are both depicted as adults, and I placed Eleven as 18 at canon's start (21 now I think? can't believe I didn't pay attention to my own lore).
> 
> For Iinu, whose silly self I've missed dearly. Thanks for making an absolute fuckton of icons, and sorry this turned into an _absolute monster._ (But not sorry because this is probably the proudest of anything I've ever worked on) 
> 
> Thank you to everyone who's helped with the minute details of this, encouraged me on, and _especially_ thank you to Addy for beta-ing this and just generally being the best friend a bean could have. I love you all!

Eleven tried to still his nerves when Erik walked into the armory, five minutes late as usual. He'd had that extra time for his mind to think too hard and spiral. 

It had been months since Eleven last did the fitting for clothing himself. Gemma was better with cloth than he was, so she often took it on herself to do the whole process lately. Having gone from dressing a silly farm boy to all the residents of the castle for a growing kingdom, she really was living her dream. 

Eleven was living an entirely different dream. Palace life didn't often require armor, but Erik was a wanderer, and he needed something to suit that life, even if he did still spend most of his time home in the castle. 

_ By my side, _ Eleven's pining brain supplemented. He told it to shut up. 

Erik had grown less frighteningly thin on Amber's cooking, and somehow even more muscular than he had been during their years on the road. Eleven couldn't just give him his old armor and call it good, and he would be loathe to embarrass himself to Gemma's assistance, even if she  _ had _ measured him recently enough. Erik often refused offers of new clothing from her. Earlier on, when she replaced his road-worn tunic, she made it baggy upon request. He filled it out nicely, now. 

Eleven didn't know why he was so nervous. He'd checked and re-checked everyone's measurements near monthly if not weekly on the road, always finding new materials to better protect them with. Never wanting an ill fit to cost someone their life. 

But lately, Eleven didn't really have that excuse to… touch Erik all over. There was a distance that luxury brought, one that life on the road couldn't afford. 

Eleven was fortunate that his reminiscing distracted him from Erik stripping. He was shirtless, down to too-tight-for-Eleven's-sanity undergarments. A cocky smirk tried to make up for Erik's light blush, though he surely knew better than anyone that he had nothing to hide. 

Eleven picked up his supplies with a steeling breath. He would not embarrass himself today, he promised. 

Eleven scowled. Erik would not stop wiggling away right as he was about to get the measurement down. Checking his half-dressed crush’s  _ hips _ was bad enough without having to re-check every time he got ticklish. 

Patience wearing thin, he shoved the measuring tape in his mouth to sign, ‘Hold still, will you?’ 

Erik nodded wordlessly, bright red. Eleven could have sworn he heard a whimper. That noise. That  _ noise. _ Erik was refusing to cooperate, but  _ this? _

That did  _ not _ help the fact that Eleven was already a mile into boner town. Erik was  _ hot, _ damn it, and Eleven already wanted to lick those fucking abs of his when standing at a realistic distance. They were  _ inches _ from his face. 

It wasn’t fair to Erik, either. It wasn’t like he was actually doing anything wrong, and Eleven would sooner die than take out his stupid horny irritation on him. He internally shook the thought out of his head and focused on the task at hand. He took mental note of the measurement ( _ finally, _ hips were always the worst for both of them, for entirely different reasons) and reached down to the paper on the floor. 

He blanched when his hand bumped Erik’s crotch on the way down. He immediately looked up to apologize, but- 

Erik did not blanch. There was something distinctly different on his face. 

Eleven stared, startled, swearing to himself that was  _ not _ a strangled moan he just heard. That sound was usually reserved for  _ interesting _ enemies and even  _ more _ interesting nights when Eleven walked past a certain door. 

_ Goddess El don’t think about Erik masturbating right now! _

Erik’s muscular chest rose and fell, flushed clear to the neck. His gaze pierced Eleven right through the core. Eleven jerked his hand away, realizing it was  _ still on Erik’s dick sweet Sprit of the Land- _ the rest of his thought process was just a scream. 

‘Sorry!’ With the movement, the measuring tape whipped around in his hand. It hit him square in the eye, causing him to yelp. 

Through his good eye, Eleven saw Erik quickly kneel and take his face in his hands. Eleven’s chin was tilted upward, gently, but with little room for protest. 

“Open your eye,” Erik said. “Come on, I know it hurts, but I need to see if you actually injured yourself.” 

Eleven forgot the pain in an instant, forgot the measuring tape in hand, forgot the armory they were kneeled in and absolutely everything but the closeness of Erik’s lips and the tightness in his own pants. It wasn’t the first time getting bossed around by Erik had… affected him. No, that would have been seconds after they met in the dungeons,  _ three fucking years ago. _ But it was the first time he got that rough treatment after  _ accidentally touching his dick, _ Erik’s face so close Eleven could count his eyelashes. 

The first time he saw that  _ hunger _ in Erik’s eyes, all directed at him. The first time Erik saw him giving that very same look right back. 

Their friends always joked about how they could read each other’s minds. There was a small amount of truth to it. They knew each other’s expressions better than their own, most days, and a single look was often all it took to work like two halves of one body. 

Eleven had no idea who moved first. They might have moved in the same instant. 

They crashed together like magnets let go. Fit together like they were made to. Burned hotter than the most powerful magic. 

Kissing Erik was like plunging into a hot bath after an exhausting day. 

Years of stress unwound just as fast as it wound him up. If Erik didn’t touch him soon, Eleven was going to explode. 

They broke apart with a panting gasp, only long enough for Erik to crawl in Eleven’s lap and dive back in. Eleven grabbed blindly, scrambling to pull Erik in further, to kiss him deeply. 

Erik brushed Eleven’s lip with his tongue, just a taste, and Eleven eagerly opened for him. Erik took his sweet time, even as Eleven moved a hand to the back of his neck in encouragement. When he finally stopped being so goddess-damned  _ shy _ and slipped his tongue between Eleven’s teeth, he got a shamefully loud moan for his efforts. 

Erik tensed up and pulled back, to Eleven’s dismay (and embarrassing whimper). 

“Shit, was that  _ you?” _ Erik squeaked. 

Eleven, mouth still open and breathing heavily, nodded. He didn’t quite absorb what Erik was asking, but  _ anything to get him kissing him again. _

“Fuck,” he whispered, fabric of Eleven’s duster bunching in his hands.  _ “El.” _

Back to heaven. 

Erik leisurely lapped at Eleven’s tongue, like he had all the time in the world, like this was forever.  _ Not enough. _ Eleven gripped Erik’s tunic and tugged, urging him on. Erik pushed his tongue deeper into Eleven’s mouth and swirled their tongues together before pulling back.  _ Not enough. _

Eleven chased into Erik’s mouth, and almost demonstrated what he wanted, specifically, before remembering himself. The last thing he wanted was for Erik to get grossed out and stop kissing him. 

But what if Erik was being just as cautious? What if it was for the same reason? 

Eleven considered breaking the kiss. Only one way to find out, right? But Erik’s mouth was so tempting, and now that he had access to it, he couldn’t bring himself to stop. What if he broke whatever spell they were under? What if Erik remembered himself and ran, their friendship left in tatters? 

Eleven didn’t know how long he lost himself. Exploring each other’s mouths, chasing after what made them moan, not enough, not enough,  _ not enough. _

Erik let his tongue wander, deeper than before, and Eleven took the opportunity to draw it in like water from a cup. Erik moaned, squirming in Eleven’s lap. His hips rocked forward,  _ not enough, _ before pulling back,  _ not enough, _ before he pulled his tongue out of Eleven’s mouth entirely, trying to coax Eleven’s into his. 

‘Shove your tongue down my throat.’ 

_ What a horrible way to break the spell. _ Erik wobbled, almost falling with how suddenly Eleven withdrew the support on his waist to sign that. His eyes were wide, cheeks flushed, lips shiny and kiss-bitten red.  _ Goddess, he looks good like that. _

He looked even better with his mind made up, eyes darkening. He adjusted his weight so his legs rested on either side of Eleven’s and tangled a hand into Eleven’s hair. 

With one sharp movement, a shove, a tug to Eleven’s hair that should have been painful but wasn’t, Eleven found himself sprawled on the floor. Erik hovered above him, a smug smile on his face as he looked down on him. 

Eleven felt the hand twitch in his hair. It had softened the hard landing on the stone floor. 

After far too long a wait, in Eleven’s opinion, Erik dove forward and gave him  _ exactly _ what he wanted. Eleven just about wailed around Erik’s tongue, deep in his mouth, and Erik swallowed his cries with soft moans of his own. 

A tug to Eleven’s head by his hair for a better angle, and his hips jolted up of their own accord. He whined as he found no purchase, not an ounce of friction, of relief. 

Erik pulled back, and Eleven’s back came off the floor in his desperate scramble to follow. Erik pushed him down with both hands on his chest. 

“Hey, what’s wrong?” He looked so genuine, almost nervous, and Eleven couldn’t bring himself to let him know he almost tried to grind on the floor of the armory. Erik deserved better than that. 

But with Erik pinning him down like that, he couldn’t help but squirm a little. He had all the room in the world to answer with his hands -  _ what would he even say? _ \- but his legs decided to answer instead. They only moved to relieve the lack of pressure, but collided with Erik’s ass on the way up. The movement drew Erik’s attention to the rather spectacular tent Eleven was pitching, no longer hidden by the duster that had ridden up when he was shoved to the ground. 

“Wow,” Erik snickered. Eleven buried his face in his hands. 

Erik wrapped his hands around Eleven’s wrists, and with a smirk, gripped them hard and brought them down on the ground above his head. Eleven gasped, kicking at the floor with his feet. 

“Nod if you want this,” Erik murmured in his ear. Eleven blanked out for a solid second, and the worry in Erik’s eyes and the loosening of the pin only just brought him out of it. He nodded so hard he banged his head on the floor. 

“Shit, you okay?” Erik snickered. 

He released one of Eleven’s hands, shifting his weight further down and unintentionally putting pressure on Eleven’s straining dick. Eleven bit his lip so hard it almost bled. He hardly noticed the gentle touches in his hair, but what he did notice only served to make him want Erik more. 

Eleven saw Erik, the care hidden in his eyes behind a smug expression, his hair even messier than usual, the muscles of his arms and shoulders and bare chest straining to not sit on Eleven any harder. He signed one word. 

_ ‘Please.’ _

Hunger burned in Erik’s eyes. He moved quickly, first to lock the hand that moved in with the other, then braced himself with his freed arm on the floor next to Eleven’s head. 

When he finally,  _ finally _ pressed down, Eleven could have sworn he saw stars. 

“Shit,” Erik groaned, “is that a dagger in your pants or are you just happy to-” 

Eleven wriggled a leg free and hooked it around Erik’s back. Erik didn’t get to finish his sentence. From the breathy little noises he made as they rocked together, he probably minded it about as much as Eleven did -  _ none at all. _

“Fuck, El,” Erik breathed, “been wanting you since- fuck, you don’t wanna know.” 

Eleven  _ did _ want to know. He’d like to know if Erik had felt the same even  _ half _ as long as Eleven did. But they had more…  _ pressing _ matters at hand. 

Eleven tilted his head up to meet Erik’s lips. Their grinding became more and more erratic as they sloppily lapped at each other’s mouths. It was clumsy, and probably objectively bad, and felt so, _ so _ good. 

“Shit,” Erik hissed against Eleven’s mouth.  _ Agreed, _ and  _ why’d you stop? _ “Bed?” 

Erik alone with him. Erik naked. Erik naked in his bed alone with him. Eleven nodded, panting, and didn’t realize he wasn’t stopping until Erik grabbed a handful of his hair to still him. 

Eleven whined, eyes squeezing shut. That was something else. Something he didn’t realize he’d wanted. Something  _ good. _

Erik stared him down, in awe of his new power. Eleven really hoped he’d use it more. 

“Ten minutes, your place or-” Erik cringed, as if remembering something unpleasant. “Actually, better be yours, huh?” 

_ He… wants to continue this? He feels the same?  _ Eleven tilted his head, curious, briefly forgetting that Erik still had a handful of hair. The spike of arousal nearly blinded him. 

_ Something good! Something very good! _

“Sorry, I still haven’t finished unpacking from that trip a month ago, and Mia’s got the keys anyhow- whoa, are you okay?” To Eleven’s disappointment, or perhaps relief, Erik untangled his fingers from his hair without catching too many strands on the way out. He slid to the side, off Eleven’s stomach. 

‘I-’ he tried. ‘Hair…’ Was it normal for someone’s face to feel this hot? ‘Good,’ he finally decided, and then buried his face in his hands, rolling away. 

“Oh,” Erik said, his voice higher than normal. “Um, I’ll keep that in mind.” 

Eleven looked behind himself, peeking through his fingers. 

“You don’t have to feel embarrassed, y’know.” Erik grinned, starting to stand, and Eleven scrambled to follow. “I’m into way weirder than that.” 

He turned around before Eleven could get the chance to ask what, but it seemed he’d find out soon enough. He snatched his shirt from the chair beside the workbench. Eleven was sad to see his muscular back disappear beneath it. 

“Ten minutes,” Erik called over his shoulder. Eleven could only just see the hint of a wicked grin. “Don’t be late… to your own room.” His ears were turning red. “Fuck, I’m bad at this.” 

Eleven trailed out of the armory behind him, giggling fondly.  _ He likes me back, _ Eleven thought.  _ He wants to sleep with me. _

The thought made him nervous. Not nervous enough to keep him from watching Erik's ass as he walked away. 

* * *

Eight minutes later, freshly bathed, Eleven paced in front of his bed. Should he wear his normal clothes? Just answer the door naked? 

Eleven quickly discarded that option. Knowing his luck, anyone could come knocking. He didn’t want his grandad or, Spirit forbid, his sister to get an eyeful if they happened to need something. 

It wasn’t as though a shout of  _ “who is it” _ would be possible in his case. Nearly everyone had the courtesy of knocking and announcing themselves, at least. There was one exception. 

Eleven sat, curled around a book that he wasn’t reading. It could have been upside-down for all he knew and cared. As Erik traced his eyes up and down his body, Eleven wondered if forgoing a shirt was a mistake. 

Was it too forward? Self conscious, Eleven crossed his arms across his chest. The book tumbled off his lap into the floor, and he scrambled to grab it. He missed by the fingertips, startled by a low whistle. 

“Y’know, I don’t get to say this unless we’re both drunk to Yggie and back,” Erik said, stalking toward the bed like a predator. “But  _ nice, _ very nice.” 

Eleven bolted upright, responding to a command not spoken, but in Erik’s eyes all the same. Erik grinned like a devil, and Eleven swallowed. Erik was going to devour him. Eleven couldn’t wait. 

He tilted his chin down shyly when Erik was close enough to reach out and touch. He couldn’t quite tear his eyes from Erik’s captivating gaze. 

That gaze softened as Erik sat on the edge of the bed. “Hey,” he murmured, tracing Eleven’s jaw with his fingertips. “It’s just me.” 

But that was so much. Erik might as well have said it’s just the whole world, just Eleven’s life, put in Erik’s hands with no hesitation when they first met. There was nothing  _ just Erik _ about Erik. He trusted him with his everything. He cared about him so much that it  _ hurt. _

Which is why, heart still pounding, Eleven lifted his chin. 

“There he is,” Erik said softly. He smiled so sweet. Eleven couldn’t help but mirror it. 

“I think you let yourself stay in your head for too long,” Erik said, standing. “Come on.” A smirk, knowing Eleven would follow him anywhere. 

He took Erik’s offered hands. They were warm. 

“So responsive,” Erik said. Eleven couldn’t quite tell if he was teasing him, or just noting it. 

He ran his hands up Eleven’s forearms, to the shoulders, then down the chest, painfully slow. His hands hesitated, but didn’t linger, on the scar that marred his sternum. They continued to slide down, and his fingers dipped under the waistband of Eleven’s soft sleep pants before halting their downward movement. 

Eleven wondered if he should return the touches as Erik slid his hands around his waist. He was wearing a shirt - should he… take it off of him? 

Erik dug his fingers into Eleven’s hips and tugged him forward, bringing them flush. Their faces were inches from each other. Eleven wanted to kiss him. 

So he did. 

Erik smiled against his mouth before deepening the kiss. They wasted no time picking up where they’d been earlier. Erik tasted of mint now; it seems he’d been just as thorough freshening up as Eleven had. 

Eleven’s hands blindly grabbed for Erik’s waist, landing on his sash. He played with the worn fabric for a moment before getting too many ideas. He hooked his finger in the knot and broke the kiss to look Erik in the eyes. 

Erik simply smirked and lifted his arms for easier access. 

Eleven fumbled with his hands, shooting the occasional glance Erik’s way. After too long, the sash came loose. Eleven wasn’t quite sure to do with it, with those ideas buzzing in his mind. He decided to shove it in his mouth and think later. He smiled around it at Erik’s snicker. 

In hindsight, he remembered seeing Erik wipe his sweaty hands all over the thing during sparring. He was relieved when he picked up the smell of laundry soap. Erik must have done the wash without getting nagged to for the first time since Eleven had met him. 

Eleven loosened the laces at Erik’s chest. He slid one hand under, reveling in Erik’s shiver, and worked the laces from both sides of the fabric. Soon it was loose enough that the tunic barely clung to the tips of Erik’s shoulders. It was a wonder, with the rapid rising and falling of Erik’s chest, that it wasn’t shaken loose on its own. 

Eleven trailed his fingertips down both sides of Erik’s neck, toward the tunic clinging on for dear life. Erik inhaled and exhaled a shuddering breath, eyes falling shut. With just a light bump on both sides, his tunic pooled on the floor. 

Eleven transferred the sash to his hand, which he then placed lightly on Erik’s hip. With the path Erik’s hands had taken on Eleven’s body, Eleven matched with his mouth on Erik’s. Erik gasped at the first light kisses to his shoulders, tilting his head for more access to the line of his throat. Eleven could get to that later. 

The scar, from two and a half years ago in Gondolia. Fading, but still unsettlingly dark. All too similar to Eleven’s own. Perhaps he should have avoided the sensitive topic like Erik had, but he couldn’t help the wave of guilt that came rushing back. Every time the other was shirtless in front of him, his mind took a second to scream  _ your fault, your fault, your fault. _

He stopped the kisses as he began to bend too low for it to be comfortable. He wasn’t sure if he was quite ready for the connotations kneeling in front of Erik would have. Not with how slow and sweet this was going. 

Even as much as he wanted to suck his dick. 

Fingertips dug into his hair, the blunt nails scratching his scalp. Erik’s other hand cupped Eleven’s chin, raising his face to level with Erik’s. 

Eleven melted into the kiss. If not for the need growing ever more painful, he could probably do this all day. Erik’s kisses brought him up to heaven and he never wanted to go back down. 

Perhaps they could kiss all day tomorrow, when the desperation was no longer clawing at his heart and Erik’s trousers. Erik wrangled his belt out of Eleven’s hand, and used it as leverage to yank their hips together. Eleven quit fumbling with Erik’s drawstring. All he could do was hold on. 

The pressure, the inferno, it was all so overwhelming, too much and not nearly enough all at once. Eleven needed to keep going without a stop, needed out of his clothes, needed more and more of this and Erik, Erik,  _ Erik. _

The scratch of the rough fabric disappeared from his back as Erik pulled away, breathing heavily. His thumbs hooked under Eleven’s remaining clothing. 

“Who’s gonna-” he started, pulling down.  _ “Holy shit.” _

Eleven wasn’t sure what that reaction meant, wasn’t sure if he should pull his pants off all the way or yank them back and hide. He ended up not deciding at all, leaving them halfway down his thighs. 

‘Is that a bad thing?’ He didn’t really have a means to… compare. 

“Goddess almighty, El.” Erik stared at the ceiling for a moment and just breathed. “Okay. You’re going to help me prep, and then you’re gonna bend me over every piece of furniture in this room. Got it?” 

‘Bend you over?’ 

“Is that a problem?” It didn’t sound hostile, just the opposite. It sounded like he would stop without a complaint if it was. 

Which was exactly why Eleven shook his head, forcing a smile. The last thing he wanted was for Erik to leave. If it made Erik happy, he’d do anything. 

Erik smiled back. It was worth it, Eleven decided. Maybe he was just nervous about their first time together. Eye contact was intimate, even as much as Eleven desired it, and they’d skipped a lot of steps to be here already. 

With that, Eleven turned, slid his pants the rest of the way off, and pawed through the drawer. He kept it hidden, away from Gemma’s nosing around and Jade’s habit of stealing his deodorant. 

“Shit.” Eleven glanced over his shoulder to see Erik smacking at his pockets. “I forgot my… uh, I’ll be right back?” 

Eleven’s brows drew together as he set the jar on the nightstand. Erik’s eyes bugged at it, but Eleven could deal with whatever that reaction was in a second. ‘Forgot what?’ 

“Uh,” Erik squeaked, “that. Do you… do this a lot? It’s more than half empty.” 

‘I’d call it half full,’ Eleven fired off before he could stop himself. His face grew hot, both in reaction to his own idiocy and what he was about to say. ‘Only on myself. I’ve never done this before.’ 

“You’re a virgin?!” Erik squalked. Eleven grimaced. “Sweet sapling on a pegasus, and I was yanking you around like… I’m so sorry.” 

Eleven shook his head, silencing whatever apologetic babbling might have continued. ‘This… specifically. I’m not a virgin.’ He shifted his weight, and redirected the conversation before Erik could ask  _ who. _ ‘Don’t be sorry about that. I liked it, I told you I did.’ 

"You did. You did." Erik took a deep breath. "Okay."

He ran his fingers through Eleven’s hair. Eleven was only allowed a moment of anticipation before he went sprawling on the bed, Erik hovering over him. It was much like their positions on the floor before, but this time, Eleven was bold enough to grab Erik’s ass with both hands. 

Even through the fabric of his trousers, Eleven could feel the muscles there. Erik had an ass that Eleven could rave about for days, and the shameful snuck peeks in no way prepared him for how it felt under his hands. He wanted to feel more. He was  _ going _ to feel more, if Erik would stop melting his brain kissing him like that. 

With one quick motion, he rocked Erik up just enough to get his pants around the swell of his ass. He basked in the feeling, surprisingly soft skin under his hands, sliding under the dropped waistband to feel the back of his thighs. 

“Mm, impatient, are we?” Erik purred against his mouth. 

With a burst of boldness, Eleven ran his fingers in between. He didn’t dare do more than a quick brush to the entrance. Erik went rigid. 

Voice much lower: “I think we’ve had enough niceties, don’t you?” 

Erik somehow managed to struggle out of his remaining clothes while still landing neatly straddling Eleven’s hips. Cool glass made contact with Eleven’s hand, fallen to the side. Did Erik want him to prep him from underneath? 

Because  _ hell yes. _

Eleven awkwardly got the jar opened with one hand, thanking his… practice, for the ability to do so without too much trouble. Erik seemed to be moving to get off him right as his slick finger made contact. Eleven wondered if he should take a step back and let Erik regroup. 

He waited, and held eye contact until Erik realized what he was asking. He rocked back, pushing Eleven’s finger inside. 

Erik moaned and kissed him, a vague approximation of aiming for his mouth. Eleven wondered if he was putting on a show. There was no way it could feel this good already, right? 

Erik looked him in the eye, and Eleven realized  _ there definitely was. _ Because Erik could lie with his voice, his body language, even his smile. His eyes couldn’t lie. 

Pleasure. Desperation.  _ Warmth. _ His gaze was intense, in the best of ways. 

Eleven wanted to keep seeing that blue. To wear it like a brand. For every time he looked his way, Erik would already be looking back. 

It was impractical. Selfish. He was always so selfish for Erik, for his time, for his attention, for his affection. He wanted Erik to be selfish for him, too. 

Erik kissed him again. Again. Again. And into his neck, whispered, “More, please,  _ El.” _

Eleven had never once in his life been able to say no to him. 

He quickly maneuvered Erik onto his back. As hot as he was straddling him, he wanted it to be special, to make Erik feel good. He wanted to make him feel so,  _ so _ good. 

Nerves lit Erik’s expression when he landed on his back. This gave Eleven pause, and he pulled his finger out. He pet Erik’s hair with his dry hand, using the other to ask, ‘You okay?’ 

“Yeah,” Erik said. Eleven could practically hear his racing heart in his voice. “Keep going.” 

Eleven pressed kiss after kiss to Erik’s forehead as he pushed back in, a long, lingering kiss to the temple as he gave him a second one. Erik groaned, though in pleasure or pain, Eleven couldn’t quite tell. 

He hesitated, allowing Erik’s body to get used to the added girth. He prayed Erik would tell him to stop if it hurt. 

“Move,” Erik mumbled into his chest. Eleven sighed in relief. 

Erik whined as Eleven pulled, all the way until the fingertips lined the rim, then pushed back in just as slowly. 

“I said,  _ move.” _

Eleven increased speed. Not as fast as Erik seemed to be requesting. He still didn’t want to hurt him; that would be worse than any punishment Erik could think up. 

Eleven curled his fingers, and Erik cried out. He repeated the motion, a bit impressed with finding it so quickly, and Erik writed, making a similar, though quieter, noise. 

_ “El,” _ Erik gasped between his sweet little noises. Eleven kissed along his neck, causing him to grow louder. “Please, please keep doing that.” 

He would only tear down every star if Erik asked it. 

Eleven alternated between scissoring his fingers and rubbing that spot inside him. Erik responded well to it all, writhing at every move he made. He was so responsive, so  _ noisy, _ it was incredible. 

“More, more, Ellie, c’mon.” Erik gasped against Eleven’s chest as his fingers stilled.  _ “Come on.” _

Eleven sunk his teeth into Erik’s neck, pulling a whine from his lips. As he was distracted by the bite, Eleven maneuvered one more finger in. 

Erik’s body jumped at the stretch, one hand flying up to tangle in Eleven’s hair. He started to tug as Eleven’s fingers sunk in, eventually so hard he was pulled off Erik’s neck entirely. He did his best to not let it distract him - at least not too much. He wanted to see what Erik’s eyes said. 

They said  _ more, more, more. _

Eleven adjusted for a better angle, so that he was partially hovering over Erik’s trembling body. The nerves were back in Erik’s eyes, but Eleven chose to do what he was told. 

He kissed Erik’s temple, feather-light touches of the lips to smooth the wrinkle of his brow. Erik relaxed under him. 

The tension of Erik’s body slowly increased back to what it was, but it was in pleasure, not nerves. Eleven thrust in, and Erik’s body rocked with the motion. He cried out, hands scrambling for purchase on Eleven’s back and in his hair. 

He didn’t tug, which was good in this scenario. He needed to focus on Erik. He desperately wanted to focus on Erik. To make him feel good. And it looked like he was succeeding. 

With every thrust, picking up speed, Erik gasped, or even yelled at the particularly good ones. He started to whisper desperately into Eleven’s chest,  _ “Please, please, please.” _

‘Ready?’ Eleven signed, the hand behind Erik’s shoulders awkwardly twisted around so Erik could see it. 

_ “Yes,” _ he hissed. 

Eleven pulled his fingers out gently, but it still brought a wince to Erik’s face. As Eleven wiped his hand on his dick and then the bed, his eyes tracked Erik’s movement, all the way to the end of the bed where he bent over it. 

_ I can’t.  _

The thought hit Eleven out of nowhere, along with the visual of Erik’s eyes, pleading and pleasured as he looked up at Eleven. He wanted to drown in the oceans of his eyes. 

_ I can’t. _

The kisses, sloppy and wonderful, interrupted by Erik’s sweet moans. 

_ I can’t! _

‘Blue?’ 

He was fortunate that Erik was still watching him expectantly, and that he, himself, was still sitting in front of the other on the bed in useless shock. 

“Yeah?” 

‘Can we talk a minute?’ 

Erik nodded wordlessly, brows knitting together. Whether it was in frustration or simple confusion, Eleven wasn’t sure. He was a bit afraid to find out. Erik righted himself. 

‘I don’t think I can do this with you facing away from me. 

Erik stared at him, wide-eyed.

Eleven’s panicked hands continued. ‘I want to see you. I want to kiss you. I want you to be able to see me if I need to say something. I-’ 

“Okay,” Erik said, reaching for Eleven’s hands as if to still them, but not quite touching. “Okay. I’m sorry, I just-” He stood, and walked with an awkward limp to sit beside Eleven on the bed- “I figured it would be awkward. I’m down for whatever.” 

‘Why would it be awkward?’ 

Erik laughed, just one quick breath, more a scoff than anything. “Why wouldn’t it be awkward?” He scratched at the back of his neck. “I mean, I guess it’s going to be a bit weird after this anyway. One night stand and all that. Always kinda weird for close friends.” 

Eleven felt as though ice was shooting through his chest. ‘What?’ Surely he misheard? 

“Uh.” Erik dropped his hand onto the bedspread. “It’s cool, we can be face to face, I just thought it would be weird for a one night stand… where did I lose you, exactly? Whoah, you good?” 

Eleven hadn’t noticed himself stand. He couldn’t seem to stop his feet from walking him backwards across the room, quickly, like he needed to be as far away from Erik as possible all of a sudden. 

His thoughts were racing, too fast, too fast, he couldn’t catch on to a one. He backed all the way into a cabinet, hand slamming painfully against a decorative vase. He fell in shock. The clatter of the vase shattering against the floor brought him out of it just as quickly. 

_ He doesn’t love me, _ was Eleven’s first realization.  _ I’m crying, _ his second. 

“El? El!” Erik’s face came into focus.  _ When had it gone out of focus? _ “El, are you okay?” 

Eleven sniffled. His first instinct was to lie, not like him at all.  _ Was he? _ Physically, he was unharmed. He hadn’t landed on any shards of pottery, nor hurt himself when he fell to the ground. But on the inside? 

All those nights of watching across the campfire, when things had gotten just a bit too awkward to sit next to each other like they normally did. Rushing back. 

When they finally talked and Eleven realized Erik had been distancing himself because he was hurting and didn’t want to talk about it. Rushing back. 

Them growing closer, staying up late together, Eleven grinding his feet to a half when they were about to part and deciding that  _ no, we can’t, if I had to suffer losing everyone  _ twice _ just let me have this one thing. _ Rushing back. 

He was a coward. He’d never said anything about those mushy feelings that welled up every time Erik laughed, every time he smiled just for him, every time he mumbled a curse under his breath as he tried and failed to memorize court etiquette like Rab was trying to teach him. He let himself snap, let himself think his actions had finally spoken when his hands stayed silent,  _ like usual.  _

And he managed to ruin it beyond repair. 

‘I’m sorry,’ he rushed. ‘I’m sorry.’ 

“No, c’mon El, what’s wrong?” 

Eleven sniffled. He could hardly see Erik through the tears that clouded his vision. ‘I messed everything up.’ 

The touch around his back took him by surprise, and he found himself shaking against Erik’s shoulder. “I really don’t know what you’re talking about,” Erik murmured against his hair, “but take all the time you need. Just tell me when you’re ready.” 

And so Eleven cried. He cried for their ruined friendship. He cried for the uncertainty, in the way Erik held him. He cried for his inability to just pull away and lay all his feelings bare, because he might be able to salvage their friendship if they pretended none of this happened. 

But that wasn’t what he wanted, not by far. He wanted Erik to understand, to love him back, to know that Eleven loved him unconditionally. 

To be able to keep loving him, for this to be permanent, not a one-time thing, to not only share a bed but also a room, their clothes, the food right off their plates, and when someone would joke about it being an  _ “indirect kiss,” _ he could just kiss Erik in front of  _ everyone, _ with no fear of rejection. 

He wanted all the silly things he’d been dreaming of for far too long, and now that he thought he’d had it in his grasp, it was  _ painful _ to open his palm and find it empty. 

And so he cried. He cried, naked on the floor, in the arms of the man he was crying for. Erik was confused. He needed an explanation,  _ deserved _ an explanation, but held Eleven through the tears instead of rightfully demanding one. 

Eleven felt Erik shift under him. He heard the rumble of a drawer opening behind his head, and then felt a soft cloth dab the edges of his closed eyes. The tender gesture brought fresh tears, and Erik wiped those away too. 

Eleven’s hand wove between them, to his chest. Erik caught it and held it against his lips. 

“You better not have been about to apologize,” he murmured. 

Eleven nodded shamefully. More tears slipped out, though he didn’t have that many left. Erik wrapped him up even tighter, rocking him ever so slightly when he started to shake. 

He couldn’t go without giving Erik an explanation any longer. He was in love with him, and was using their friendship to take advantage of him. The only reason Erik was holding him was because he thought that was all they were, and he’d surely be disgusted and leave and  _ never come back _ once Eleven told him. 

But he deserved the truth. He wasn’t going to keep secrets anymore. He promised that a year ago, before all of them on Cetecea’s back, and yet he’d spent the whole time since breaking it. 

‘I’m sorry,’ he signed after pulling free. ‘No-’ Erik stopped reaching to still his wrists again- ‘please. Let me apologize. I broke down with no warning and no reason.’ 

“El,” Erik said, “you don’t need to tell me. I think I understand. And I’m here for you. I’ve been here for you, I’ll always be here for you.” 

Eleven gritted his teeth, holding back guilty tears. It wasn’t  _ fair, _ not to Erik, not to himself, to continue to hide. 

‘I was foolish,’ Eleven continued, trying not to let his heart latch too tightly onto Erik’s words. ‘I made assumptions. I let myself think that you were touching me because you loved me.’ 

“You weren’t, you didn’t- wait,” Erik said. “Say that last part again?” 

‘I made assumptions?’ 

“El.” 

‘I thought you loved me.’ Eleven turned an unseeing gaze toward the center of the room, carefully avoiding Erik, though he couldn’t quite stop himself from glancing back. ‘I’m sorry.’ 

“I-” Erik glanced around the room, scratched his neck, looked anywhere but back at him. That was fine. He didn’t deserve Erik’s eyes on him. 

“Does this…” Erik’s arm flexed as he tugged the hairs at the nape of his neck, hard enough it looked painful. “Does this mean you  _ do?” _

Eleven stared at his hands, dropped to the floor. He told himself he’d be honest, berated himself for not, but it was still hard to let it out into the open. 

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath to steel himself. Then he nodded. 

He slid one eye open, and was greeted by a sight that was about what he expected. Erik’s jaw had gotten lost somewhere between the floor and the underground tunnel system. The knowledge that this was surprising to Erik, not just a scrap of good news, still hurt. 

Eleven took a deep breath, forcing the fresh wave of tears still, crashing against the lids of his eyes. ‘I’m sorry. I know you must be angry with me-’ 

“El.  _ El.” _ Eleven wrung his hands, and Erik covered them with his own. “Why would I be mad?” 

Eleven pointedly jutted his chin at both of their bodies, the naked state they were in. Erik was getting lube on the floor, for spirit’s sake. 

To Eleven’s surprise, Erik laughed lightly. “Let’s get off the floor before one of us gets stabbed in the ass by a pottery shard, huh?” Eleven watched the other stand, brows knitting together as he tried to absorb the change of pace. “C’mon, up you get.” 

Eleven took Erik’s offered hand. Was this really his top priority right now? His confession filled the room like a dragon, and Erik was more worried about getting poked by a  _ vase? _

Eleven’s heart rose in his chest as Erik didn’t let his hand go, leading him to sit on the edge of the bed. It climbed up his throat when he pulled them down, side by side, laying facing one another. 

Erik’s cheeks were a bit pink. He looked as though his words had taken on a physical form, and he was holding them in his mouth, desperately trying to form them into something sensical as they worked to escape. 

Eleven wished he could ease Erik’s mind a bit, but he had absolutely no idea what was on it. He was so far out of his depths. Erik should be angry, should have stormed out, but he didn’t. They were laying on the bed, naked,  _ still holding hands. _ Eleven didn’t know what to think. 

“I’m sorry,” Erik finally said. “I didn’t mean to leave you hanging, I’m just- I’m not good at… big emotional speeches. Putting it all out there, it’s hard.”

His hand tightened around Eleven’s. “I don’t know what made you go and fall for a guy like me, but whatever it was, I’d like to know. So I can keep doin’ it. 

“I’m…” Erik’s fingers moved to weave in between Eleven’s. “Uh, same? For the squishy… feelings…” He groaned and turned his face into the bed. “Goddess, I’m really bad at this. I made you cry and I didn’t even realize-” He stopped mid sentence. “I made you  _ cry. _ Holy fuck. I have a  _ long _ list of people who’re gonna be out to burn me alive and I deserve-” 

Eleven, finally having realized what Erik was trying to say, found himself wrapped around him like a blanket. He didn’t mean to interrupt, not really, but he needed to hold him every bit as much as he needed the air in his lungs. He needed something to prove this was real, that he wasn’t hearing things, that Erik truly said he felt the same. 

Erik took his time, but then he was hugging back with just as much force. “Why me?” His voice was low. Vulnerable. “You could probably have anyone in the world, and you decided you liked the guy you wound up in jail with? The one who was so fuckin’ helpless without you he followed you home?” 

Reluctantly, Eleven sat up. Erik watched him quietly. ‘It didn’t feel like a decision. I just did. Loving you felt right.’ Erik grew progressively more flushed as Eleven continued on. ‘I… I was so happy when you decided to stay with me. If I suddenly couldn’t see you every day, if I suddenly went from waking up to you telling me I’d overslept to not being sure when I’d see you next, I don’t know what I would have done. 

‘It’s why I ended up such a mess earlier. I thought I’d ruined everything.’ 

“I’m sorry,” Erik murmured. “I shouldn’t have jumped you. I should have just talked to you, should have talked ages ago, I’m so-” 

He cut himself off with a shake of his head. “Do you… want to be together, then?” 

Eleven nodded, warmth tangling in his chest. 

The smile Erik gave him was more beautiful than anything Eleven had ever seen. It was relieved. Loving.  _ His. _

Eleven laid back into his previous position, sliding his hand along whatever skin he could reach. It wasn’t hurried, nor full of intent. Rather, they basked in their new relationship. 

Naked. 

It wasn’t as though Eleven had forgotten, but now he was focused on it. Erik was soft, surprisingly so, and Eleven wanted to spend all day feeling his back muscles, seeing Erik melt under his touch. 

Their faces were close. Neither wanted to break eye contact. It should have felt awkward, to just lie there and stare as their hands lazily, innocently explored each other’s bodies, but it didn’t. 

Eleven cupped Erik’s neck, just below the jawline, fingertips burying in his hair. Erik smiled, shy but sure. Eleven smiled back. 

Erik shifted closer, hesitation in his movements. Eleven copied him, and Erik looked up through his lashes before his eyes fluttered closed. 

_ Oh. _

He supposed it made sense to be shy about it. About a first kiss, after a confession, while the context of the room still read that they were about to sleep together. Still, it felt as natural as breathing when Eleven met his lips. 

Erik had been holding back, before. 

Maybe this new kiss lacked the heat and passion of the ones previous, but there was something about its intimacy that made Eleven melt. The way Erik’s hands wandered, not searching, just feeling. He seemed like he was both trying to keep a respectful distance and get as close as possible. 

It was like a “good morning.” 

It was like a “welcome home.” 

And maybe there was some truth to that. Maybe it was a new dawn, settling into a dream home. 

Or maybe Eleven was just being dramatic. 

And maybe, just maybe, he should  _ really _ stop thinking, because that wasn’t kissing Erik, and that was all he should be focused on right now. 

As Eleven pressed forward, Erik matched him. Their mouths more open, wetter, hotter. The return of arousal, then panting, as they remembered to breathe. At some point, Erik had climbed on top of Eleven, and he very much wasn’t complaining. 

Erik pulled back for one gasping breath, then right back down to push his tongue between Eleven’s teeth. The shift caused Eleven’s arousal to be pressed right up against Erik’s thigh, but he didn’t have the time to get embarrassed. Especially not with Erik’s brushing Eleven’s stomach. 

Erik did  _ something  _ with his tongue, and when Eleven came to, he had two handfuls of ass and a significantly squirmier Erik on top of him. 

Erik moved back - not  _ away _ necessarily, just off Eleven’s mouth enough to frustrate him. He wiped his mouth, the other hand on the sheets next to Eleven’s head for balance. 

“This is going to sound like a stupid question,” Erik said, “but do you still want to… uh…” 

Eleven blinked as his addled brain tried to process where that question was going. When it finally reached the most logical answer, his eyes widened. 

“We don’t h-” Erik stopped, interrupted by Eleven’s eagerly bobbing head.  _ “Nice.” _

Eleven swiped toward the jar, just out of reach. He grabbed Erik’s hip to stop him from climbing off, but did accept the help getting the jar. 

Erik started to move again, prompting Eleven to tighten his grip. He stilled, and looked down with a sour expression. “I won’t move, but can we at least get you on the pillows?” 

Eleven didn’t want to take the time to re-situate, but he did see the logic in it. His feet and half his calves were hanging off the bed. He shuffled awkwardly, Erik crawling after him, until his head sank into the pile of pillows. 

Erik’s face twisted as he adjusted, bringing Eleven’s focus away from trying to open the jar with one hand. He jolted, like a trapped animal, bringing Eleven concern. He rolled his eyes and moved with one final yank, and his leg pulled free of where Eleven’s hip had apparently been trapping it. 

“I’m fine, just got stuck.” 

Eleven nodded, holding back a relieved giggle, and patted Erik’s leg. His thighs spread further in reaction to the touch. Eleven wasn’t sure if it was intentional, or if Erik was telling him, with his body, to get a move on already. 

Or he was just projecting.  _ He  _ certainly wanted to get a move on already. 

After another moment of struggling with the jar -  _ did he glue the damn thing closed earlier? _ \- Erik reached to help him. With an awkward scramble of hands, it came open easily enough. Erik opened his stance further still, eyeing Eleven’s dick under him. 

He apparently wasn’t expecting more prep. 

It seemed natural to Eleven to double check. He didn’t know how much lube had been…  _ misplaced _ on the nice floor or sheets when they moved about the room. Still, with the way Erik gasped at the touch, he probably should have given some sort of warning. 

Eleven froze, focusing on Erik’s face, waiting for some indication he should move away or continue on. 

“You already…” He trailed off, seeing Eleven’s unintentional pout. “Gah, go ahead, not like I’m complaining.” 

Eleven was just going to check. Just a little add of lube, maybe moving his fingers around a bit to make sure. But when Erik exhaled softly, shivering in pleasure, so much of him capturing Eleven’s vision, he couldn’t bring himself to make it quick. 

He was noisy, constantly moving, and Eleven could spend hours just touching him like this. Maybe Erik would let him. 

Erik showed no sign of wanting to stop - quite the opposite. Eleven worked him open more, spreading his fingers and pulling out a moan. Erik bore down on him, trying to pull him deeper, but he was as far as his fingers could stretch, so instead he kept moving. 

With just a crook of the fingers, Erik unraveled, arching his back with a strangled groan. His dick was there between them, exposed and tempting, and Eleven’s mouth watered. He wasn’t confident he knew how - fingers were a poor substitute for learning properly - but was eager to try. Moving slowly enough that Erik could stop him if he wanted, Eleven maneuvered between his legs, and got his fill. 

Erik’s body curled around his head, letting out a loud whine as Eleven’s mouth swallowed him whole. Their eyes met, and Erik’s look of shock and wild arousal made Eleven burn. He shifted his legs, his ignored dick only mildly protesting the change in tone. Because he wasn’t fucking Erik, but he  _ so _ didn’t care at the moment. 

The weight on his tongue felt amazing, and what it was doing to Erik, making him squirm and gasp and moan, twisting this way and that trying desperately hard to keep straddling Eleven’s head - it was indescribable. 

Erik let out a shaking whimper, and Eleven groaned at the sound, taking more of him into his mouth at the next bob. Erik’s noise rose to a shout, and his hands tangled in Eleven’s hair. Despite the pulling, Eleven moved his head and fingers in a rhythm, thrusting in as he bobbed forward, bringing on a louder shout every time. 

“El,” Erik breathed, “you feel so-” he cut off with a choked gasp. 

Eleven’s toes curled at the stuttered praise. 

_ “El,” _ he drawed out, “I’m-  _ shit-” _ He trembled in effort as he stilled Eleven’s head and hand. He didn’t look like he wanted to do that. “If you- if you keep this up, I’m gonna come, and where will that leave you?” 

_ Way too happy. _ Eleven couldn’t answer properly with Erik around his neck like that, but he could - and did - grin wide. He moved forward to take Erik back into his mouth, pouting when the other pulled away. 

“El,” he said, a scolding but gentle tone, “I’m not gonna just  _ take. _ I’m not that kind of man. Let me make you feel good, too.” 

Eleven pouted harder, but nodded. He had faith that this was a permanent thing now, and that meant plenty of opportunities to spend an afternoon just  _ ravishing _ him. He could make it clear that he desperately wanted to do so later. It wasn’t like he was going to  _ complain _ about getting to fuck him. 

Erik moved off him, shoving him insistently to get him back on the pillow. He looked down, and his eyes widened. 

“You… you weren’t being touched at all, how are you this hard already?” 

Eleven felt his face warm, embarrassed albeit unashamed. ‘I liked…’ He gestured vaguely. ‘I liked touching you. I liked sucking you off. It felt…’ He squeezed his eyes shut, just for a moment, just enough to brace himself, before looking for Erik’s expression.  _ ‘Incredible.’ _

Erik’s face went red so fast Eleven worried, but then he stopped worrying because Erik was on him, on his tongue, on his hips, on his dick, poised at the ready to sink down waiting for the signal of an okay. Eleven gave it, and then gasped, all of the muscles around his hips tightening in both pleasure and in the slightest breath of self-control, only stopping from thrusting up into the tight heat by the skin of his teeth. 

Erik bounced, shallow, eyes screwed shut in concentration. “Not to sound like the cover girl of a dirty porn mag,” he grunted, “but you’re  _ really big, _ you know that?” 

Eleven wondered if he should apologize as Erik sank down a little more. That was… a good thing, right? 

“Oh,” Erik squeaked, voice taking on a ridiculous falsetto tone, “master, you’re so  _ big!” _

He gasped as Eleven’s laughter pushed his dick deeper inside him, his own laughter sounding strangled. Eleven worried he’d caused him pain until he clung to his shoulders and came down all at once with a low groan. 

Eleven panted, fingertips digging into Erik’s hips, all of his concentration going into  _ not moving. _ Erik needed to adjust, and judging by the shine of his eyes, he’d done too much at once. 

“I’m okay,” Erik said. “Just-” He groaned, shifting his weight, the adjustment causing Eleven to shiver. He didn’t know how it wouldn’t kill him, when the other started moving. He couldn’t wait to find out. 

“Feel the burn,” Erik mumbled, the same phrase he’d say if he overextended himself working out, and Eleven couldn’t stop the breathless laughter. He laughed hard enough that he felt himself move inside Erik, and cut short upon hearing a hissed,  _ “Shit.” _

His hands scrambled at Erik, worried touches not quite knowing where to go. 

“El,” Erik mumbled, causing his hands to freeze, “stop worryin’, felt…  _ nice.” _ He shifted up and back down, barely any movement, still punching the breath out of Eleven’s lungs. “Feel so good…” 

‘Same,’ Eleven signed, not sure if Erik saw, eyes half lidded and shimmering, not sure if he noticed anything but the imprint of Eleven’s hand as he took it away from his hip to say that. But then Erik whined, tilting his head, and then they were kissing, and it really didn’t matter. The kiss was sloppy, uncoordinated, distracted by the increasing movements elsewhere, and no matter what part of Erik was on Eleven’s tongue, he tasted so good. 

He could kiss him all day, he decided, his mouth, his tongue, marking up his neck, biting down his stomach, sucking his dick until he couldn’t remember anything but Eleven’s name. Erik rocked down hard, and Eleven decided he could think about that some other time. 

He wished he was playing a more active part in those noises Erik was making, but he last thing he wanted was to get overzealous in his inexperience and hurt him. Only when Erik was good and ready would he try to meet him halfway. 

Erik arched his back and came down again, throwing back his head with a high pitched moan, eyes rolling back. 

Oh, how good he looked on Eleven’s cock. How good he felt, all tight and wound up. He was enjoying himself, and didn’t fear making it known. Every noise he made, Eleven’s head spun a little faster. 

“Mmm,” Erik hummed, rocking his hips in circular motions, the changing pressure and angle making it very surprising that Eleven even heard the next part. “You gonna just lie there and take it?” 

Eleven’s blood ran cold. Was he not doing enough? He was being selfish, wasn’t he? He was in bed with the most wonderful person in the world and he was just lying there, taking! 

“Oh,” Erik paused, “oh, shit, I didn’t mean-” 

Eleven wrapped one arm around his back, using the other to flip them. He got them stuck on their sides before Erik laughed softly and helped him get on top. 

“I didn’t-” Erik squinted as Eleven started moving- “ah, I didn’t mean it was a bad thing- ah, you looked so-  _ fuck, _ you feel so good,  _ El-” _

Eleven slid his arm between Erik’s neck and the pillow, leaning in close to kiss him deeply. He kept moving slowly, trying so hard not to hurt Erik. 

Erik wrapped his legs around Eleven’s hips, tugging at him in bursts. “Move,” he growled. 

Eleven would only ever do as Erik pleased. 

He kept kissing him sloppily as he picked up speed, until they were both getting just a bit too loud to keep going at each other’s mouths. Eleven adjusted his angle, and on the next thrust Erik’s back arched off the bed as he let out a cry. 

“Faster, harder, oh  _ El,” _ Erik begged,  _ “please.” _

The heat spiked low in Eleven’s belly, and he had to do the opposite of what he was asked to keep from losing himself. Erik let out a frustrated growl, and Eleven knew he had to make it up to him somehow. 

He scrambled for a pillow and had to pull out entirely to get it under Erik’s hips. They both gasped at the loss, Erik looking two parts uncertain and one part understandably pissed off. 

Eleven took his sweet time going back in, testing the new angle, and  _ yes, this’ll work. _

He pulled back to the head, and slammed in. 

Erik gasped, hands coming up to cling to Eleven’s back, fingertips digging in. He increased speed, and the delicious sting of the fingernails in his back was only beaten by Erik’s voice rising to a scream. His body was responding well, but when he let out a choked sob, Eleven was worried. 

He stopped and balanced on one arm, raising his other hand to ask if he was okay. He didn’t expect for Erik to grab on, begging, “Don’t stop, don’t  _ stop.” _

So he didn’t. 

Erik went hoarse shortly after Eleven’s eardrums started protesting. Drool fell from his open mouth, and it should have been gross but Eleven couldn’t bring himself to care in the heat of it. He was bringing Erik to a point of lost control, and it was  _ so _ good. 

Erik might not have been screaming anymore, but his desperate clawing didn’t stop and Eleven had to pause again in the pleasure as he dug a particularly deep line. 

“Sorry,” Erik whispered, moving his hands to clutch the bedspread in a misguided effort to somehow make this feel even better. Eleven could tell him how much he loved the feeling later though; at least he wasn’t three seconds from tumbling over the edge anymore. 

He wanted to see Erik’s face contort in ecstasy by his own efforts. He certainly didn’t want to be the first and have Erik’s pleasure be an afterthought. 

He adjusted his angle, and Erik’s reactions were suddenly different. His eyes rolled back and then closed, rumbling whimpers tearing from his throat with every thrust. 

“El, I’m so cl- t-touch me, El,  _ El _ please-” 

_ Your wish is my command, _ Eleven thought deliriously, moving as fast as he could to do as asked without falling on his face. 

Erik growled, too hoarse to scream, the way he writhed nearly destroying what little control Eleven had left. “Feels so- I’m about to- fuck, inside, okay, I really want you to-” 

And then his nails were in Eleven’s back, and then Eleven’s vision was dark, his only thought  _ Erik, Erik, Erik, _ pleasure like he was drowning in the ocean and never wanted to come back up for air. 

When he could see again, he almost blacked out from the sight. Erik’s head was back, breathing hard, sweaty and beautiful. “Do-on’t stop I’m-” up an octave- “still-” a whining hiss, wetness, tension, scratching, stillness. 

Erik’s limp arms fell away, eventually solidifying to wipe the pricks of tears around his eyes. 

“Shit,” he whispered. He grunted it again when Eleven pulled out. 

Eleven fumbled into a heap next to him, his arms feeling like jelly. His body purred all over, thrumming with exhausted satisfaction. 

“Hah,” Erik sighed, “I’m a mess.” 

Just enough energy shot through Eleven for him to sit up and realize what state he’d put him in. And he was just going to sleep with Erik not cared for? He couldn’t do that. 

‘I’m so sorry, I should have used the barrier spell,’ he signed, eyeing the mess. 

“You kidding? I practically begged you to… uh…” He trailed off, suddenly looking shy, like they hadn’t been connected in the most intimate way less than a minute before. 

Eleven tilted his head, not quite understanding what he meant. He’d been in a bit of a haze near the end, so his memory was blurry. 

Erik twisted his hips, eyelashes fluttering. “Felt good. Feels good. When you… You-” he pointed at Eleven- “shut up. I never said this. Got it?” 

Eleven had to process for a moment, and let the glee wash over him for another. ‘Why would I want to share  _ that?’ _ Erik blushed even harder, but Eleven continued on. ‘I’ll have to remember that, so I can do it again sometime.’ 

Erik groaned. He sounded annoyed, but Eleven didn’t miss the way he bit his lip. 

‘Bath?’ Eleven offered. He had a tub a family could fit into. Erik would look nice in it, all sleepy and fucked out and naked and  _ his. _

“I’m gonna regret sayin’ this,” Erik said, “but I don’t wanna sleep all evening in your tub, so…” He started to move upright with a grunt. “Do you have anything I can wipe down with?” 

Eleven nodded and started to stand before Erik batted him back down. “I got it. Sheesh, ‘m not helpless. Just point me in the right direction.” 

Eleven tried to not look too pathetic at not getting to help him as he pointed. Erik was allowed his independence if he was uncomfortable. 

“Cool, thanks.” The second Erik stood, he wobbled and hit the floor. 

Eleven was up in an instant, sore arms be damned. He scooped a grumbling and sticky Erik off the floor, his first priority. The sheets would need changing too, but in his hazy mind all Eleven could think was that there was plenty of dry space for them to cuddle up and sleep. His bed was far too big, especially in comparison to what he’d grown up with. 

Erik looked properly miserable when Eleven returned with the softest towel. Guilt clawed at Eleven’s throat. Should he have prepped him more? He felt awful for temporarily  _ fucking _ his ability to walk away, though he couldn’t bring himself to regret it. 

Unless Erik did? 

‘Can I take care of you?’ It was a selfish request, especially when he knew full well how upset Erik was. No matter how Eleven framed it in his head, it didn’t look good. 

“I’m not helpless,” he repeated, subdued. His legs still trembled from the fall. 

Eleven stared at his hands, clutched on his lap as he sat. His nails dug prints into his palms. How could he be so awful? 

“Are you-” Eleven looked up to see Erik mostly dried off- “pouting?” 

Eleven’s eyes went wide. Now it looked like he was trying to guilt him! ‘I’m sorry,’ he signed frantically. ‘I was being selfish.’ 

Erik snorted. “Selfish for  _ what? _ You’re running yourself ragged.” He shifted in place with a wince. 

‘For… forcing you to let me take care of you?’ 

“What- El, is that seriously how you see this?” Why did he look so happy all of a sudden? In any case, Eleven was relieved. “You’re so selfless you think it’s too much to ask for me to sit down and shut up for once?” He sighed, running his hand through his hair. “You really  _ want _ to do this, don’t you?” 

Eleven nodded. 

“Wow,” Erik murmured, more to himself than to Eleven, “what did I do to luck out like this?” 

Eleven gawked at him. ‘You… you’re okay with it? You want me to?’ 

“Okay,” Erik said, “I wouldn’t ask it of you. You deserve to relax, after  _ that, _ and I  _ am _ capable, I just need to be a slug for a while. I’ve never had anything that big in me either.” He let out a shy laugh. “But… if it’s gonna break your heart, not  _ getting _ to, then damn, who am I to say no to a little pampering?” 

‘Do you  _ want _ me to?’ 

“Holy shit, El,” Erik said. “I feel like an ass for how much I want this. I just don’t want you to feel like you have to.” 

It felt like the room itself got a little brighter, a little warmer. Erik gasped as he was scooped out of bed, but by the way he melted into the hold, Eleven pushed down the worry that he’d changed his mind. He grinned so wide his face hurt, and would have spun them around were he any less worn out. 

Eleven prompted the bath to fill with a wave of his hand, balancing Erik’s weight in the other arm. He touched the water, still cold from its time in goddess-knows-where, and lightly kicked the second rune. He needed to get that one replaced, but it was expensive to hire Snifleheim mages, especially for something so silly. 

To his relief, heat filled the tub. He stepped into it, cringing at the way he wobbled and almost fell, and sunk them both to their mid stomachs. 

“Fancy gigs you got,” Erik said. “Should get my room hooked up with something like this.” 

It was fortunate that Eleven’s hands were full, as two equally embarrassing thoughts crossed his mind, and he would have certainly said one of them if he could. An offer to do just that, despite the cost and the fact that Erik was clearly joking, being one. The other, a suggestion that he just stay here, with him. Permanently. 

Erik hummed as Eleven washed the sweat and… dried on fluids off his body. He moved slowly, savoring it, watching Erik savor it. 

“You lookin’ for a round two already?” Erik asked, a grin in his voice, when Eleven’s hands lowered. Eleven huffed a laugh against the side of his head. He washed carefully here, worrying over the flinch after moving lower still. 

“Can’t wait to get used to that,” Erik said. “Might even be able to walk it off next time.” 

Eleven’s heart squeezed at how casually he said it, how matter-of-fact he was about the fact that there was going to be a next time, and a next, and they would only grow closer as time went by. Eleven kissed the side of his head and wrapped his arms around him so his hands were visible. ‘You next,’ he signed around him. 

Erik flushed. He scowled playfully, shifting so he could turn to rest his cheek on Eleven’s shoulder. His hair, damp with sweat and steam, tickled Eleven’s neck. “You sayin’ you’ll be able to walk?” 

Eleven shrugged. They’d just have to find out, wouldn’t they? 

They didn’t bother to clothe themselves before slipping under the covers, carefully avoiding the mess with immature giggles. The skin-to-skin contact was Eleven’s new favorite thing. 

* * *

The late evening light cast a warm tint on blue, of the eyes observing Eleven as he woke. Erik lay across his stomach, staring up at him from his chest. He probably had a terrible angle on Eleven’s face. 

“You’re finally awake,” he noted. Eleven squirmed under him, rolling his arm that had fallen asleep. Erik slid off to sit on the bed. “Did you know you snore like a little kid with a cold?” 

Eleven breathed a laugh. Erik had moved so Eleven could talk, but Eleven didn’t feel like talking just yet. He pushed Erik onto his back and flopped his head down on the nice new pillow he prepared, a mirror of the position they’d napped in. 

“We should go eat,” Erik said, running his fingers through Eleven’s hair. “And probably stay up for at least a bit so we don’t trash our sleep schedules.” 

Eleven huffed and cuddled in closer, pretending he didn’t hear him. 

“You probably want-” the hands in Eleven’s hair paused-  _ “do _ you want me to go back to my own room for the night? I understand if you need your space, but…” 

Eleven’s arms tightened around his partner’s chest without his permission, insecurity buzzing through his mind. 

“Got it,” Erik said, overly casually, just enough that Eleven could tell he’d been worried, too. “I don’t want to leave, either.” He pushed Eleven off him, an impressive feat considering he was clinging like a tentacular sinking a ship. “But I’m hungry, and Gemma said she’s making pie tonight. Up you get.” 

‘As you wish,’ he answered, signing  _ “wish” _ just a bit too long to make it look like  _ “hungry.” _

Erik’s eyes narrowed. “Did you just pun me?” Eleven doubled over in giggles. “You jerk! It’s too early for this.” 

‘The sun is setting!’ 

“Too early!” he repeated, pointing at him. “At least wait for me to have breakfast before going and acting so damn cute, sheesh.” 

Eleven stilled at the casual compliment, face growing hot. 

“Wh- what?” Erik looked as flushed as Eleven felt. “You fucked me so hard I couldn’t walk, but you’re getting embarrassed by being called cute?” 

‘You’re embarrassed too!’ 

“Shut- shut up! And get some pants on.” 

‘Are you complaining?’ Eleven asked with a smirk. 

“Absolutely not.” Erik stretched with a grunt. “I think your family would, though.” 

‘Everyone in Cobblestone has seen me bathe, up to and beyond the point of my eighteenth birthday. I’m pretty sure Mum’s caught me-’ he averted his gaze and shook a fist- ‘in a washbasin more than once.’ 

“Oh, shit,” Erik laughed. He reached over the edge of the bed to grab underclothes off the floor. Eleven realized a bit too late those were  _ not _ Erik’s, but he wasn’t going to be the one to point it out. “Jade, though. Think she’d be scarred.” 

‘Think she’s seen worse.’ Eleven went to the wardrobe for clean clothes. A shame that Erik would have to go out a bit rumpled, but it would serve as a reminder to Eleven of what they’d been up to - not that he’d forget. A reminder that they were going to be spending all night together in just a few short hours. 

“Think she’d make fun of your nipples like a good sister should. At least Mia does.” 

Eleven chuckled, tugging on fresh smallclothes. He sorted through his trousers, wondering if he should say the first thought that had crossed his mind. 

‘You have nice nipples.’ Apparently he didn’t have a choice in the matter. What happened to his filter? 

Erik folded over on the bed, a crazed, wheezing laughter turning his face so red it started to look purple. “I have…” A fresh wave of laughter hit. “And you got embarrassed for getting called  _ cute? _ How about this - you have nice pubes.” 

The laughter was contagious, Erik’s even worse statement shaking away the embarrassment of his own. ‘My… my…’ He couldn’t bring himself to sign it. 

“It’s true!” Erik insisted. “It’s like, weirdly straight and soft. I almost wanna braid it.” 

Eleven had to sit on the floor, he was laughing so hard. ‘That would feel so weird,’ he protested, squinting up at Erik through the tears. 

“Fine, fine, I’ll just braid your hair instead.” He stood to get the rest of his clothes, and his legs trembled under his weight. He threw a hand back on the bed to catch himself. “You’ve gotta be kidding me.” 

The guilt returned, subdued though it was, as Erik limped over to dress himself. He jumped up to help, but Erik batted him away. 

“At least get your own clothes on first,” he said. He raised a foot to slide it through a pant leg, and would have met the floor if not for Eleven catching him. “Okay, fine,” he sighed, “if you must.” 

Eleven wasn’t worried that he was truly upset; at least not much. It seemed Erik only protested in an effort to not be a bother to others. He wouldn’t go so far as to dress him. He didn’t want Erik feeling like a child. What he did do was maintain Erik’s balance as long as he’d let him. 

“Shit,” Erik said, sitting on the edge of the bed when they were both decent. “It’s a long walk to the dining hall, isn’t it?” 

‘I can bring some back,’ Eleven offered. 

“Oh, breakfast in bed? What did I do to deserve his highness’s attentions so?” Erik grinned at the eyeroll. “Do you want ants? That’s how you get ants. I thought Ruby was gonna kill me when I got one of her inn rooms infested.” 

‘I can carry you?” 

Erik’s nose wrinkled. “And let everyone see that I couldn’t take a…” He stopped short, eyes going wide. “Do-” he swallowed, but met Eleven’s eyes all the same- “do you want people knowing? About us?” 

‘That we had sex?’ 

“Wh- no!” Erik ran his hand through his hair. “I just meant… that we’re, y’know,” he mumbled the last word, “together?” 

Eleven tilted his head. ‘Why would I want to keep it secret?’ 

Erik stared at his hands. “I dunno, I guess… I’m worried your family doesn’t like me too much. Kinda just popped in without asking them first, y’know?” He sighed, wringing his hands, and looked up. “And our friends probably don’t think I deserve you.” 

Eleven sat next to him and pulled him into an embrace. He kissed Erik’s forehead, then cheek, stalling to get his words in order. 

‘Mum is making your favorite stew,’ he finally signed. ‘Grandad made sure to get you and M-I-A the most well insulated room after seeing how you two grew up. Ponytail always looks forward to catching you cheating at poker. 

‘Our friends saw you through your best and your worst. They saw how hard you fought. They saw how much and how freely you love, despite the world chewing you up for it. They,’ he paused to hold Erik’s face to press a short, chaste kiss on his lips, ‘they saw you help me become a better person. If either of us doesn’t deserve the other, it’s me not deserving you. 

‘Even if they do think it’s a bad match, I don’t care. I love you. That doesn’t have anything to do with them.’ 

Erik’s eyes slid back down to his lap, but Eleven didn’t miss the shimmer of unshed tears. “How do you do that?” he whispered. “How do you just… know how to make everything better?” 

Eleven had a lot of practice with making everything better. He’d ruined so many things, and still wasn’t convinced he’d learned to do it right. If he could help with this one thing, maybe he could ignore the failures of his past. Just for now. 

Not wanting to drag the mood down, he shook his head with a smile, and drew Erik into his arms. He could deal with  _ that _ later. He could  _ tell him _ later, if Erik didn’t mind listening. 

* * *

“What the fuck,” was the first thing Eleven heard from the dining hall, before he managed to get the door closed behind them both. 

“Oh, hey Ronnie, what are you doing here?” from behind him, where Erik clung to his back. His weight made the claw marks smart, but not in a bad way. “What is everyone doing here?” 

“What, can we not simply drop in on our dear friends?” Sylvando said. “My, how royal life has changed you, dear Erik!” 

“You’re even making his highness carry you like a steed!” Serena said, overly sweet. “Oh, you poor thing. Do your legs not work?” 

_ I was keen to share the news, but I didn’t realize _ everyone _ would be here, _ Eleven thought, growing nervous. 

“I,” Erik stammered, “I fell and busted my ass in training, okay? Sheesh.” 

“Oh dear,” Serena said, now sounding properly concerned. “Do you need healing?” 

_ Why didn’t I think of that? _ Eleven thought. 

Erik pushed off Eleven’s back, sliding to land clumsily on his own feet. “Apparently I’m supposed to learn my lesson. But thanks.” 

Eleven squinted at him, carefully away from their friends’ curious gazes. Did he  _ want _ to be in pain? 

Jade scoffed. “This looks like it’s more punishment for El than it is for you.” She set her fork on her plate and turned to look at the two fully. “When did you get the chance to train? I was in the yard most of the day.” 

“Uh,” Erik said, “I was… in the armory?”  _ Not technically a lie. _ “And it was at least half his fault.” 

“How is falling and breaking your arse his fault? What,” Veronica turned to Eleven, “did you push him down?” 

Eleven flinched under the weight of the eyes on him. He wasn’t as good at lying as Erik was, but he could at least tell a half-truth. ‘Kind of?’ 

“What’s  _ that _ supposed to mean?” she demanded. 

“You,” Mia said, raising her voice even too loud for being on the other side of the room, wearing a positively  _ vile _ smirk, “are exaggerating to get him to carry you around.” 

“You little-” He took a step forward, wobbling with a flinch. Eleven quickly steadied him. When Erik glanced back, Eleven winked.  _ It’s okay, _ Eleven thought, hoping Erik could tell what was on his mind.  _ I’m nervous too, but it’s okay. _

Sylvando gasped, prompting Hendrik to ask what was wrong. He grinned and mimed zipping his lips. Eleven had forgotten that he was even better at reading expressions than Erik was.

But it wasn’t until Erik, after a brief pause, finally took the wink as permission to say, “So what if I am?” that the room erupted into chaos. 

Sylvando shoved an open palm at Hendrik. That, despite all the voices talking at once, was the first thing Eleven noticed. “He has not confirmed it,” Hendrik protested, his booming voice cutting over the rest of the commotion. 

Eleven didn’t hear what Sylvando said in response, because everyone else was crowding them, asking so many questions that he couldn’t hope to understand what was being said. 

Erik turned to him with wide, nervous eyes, and suddenly he was the only person in the room. And as one so often does alone in a room with a lover, Eleven kissed him. 

Just on the cheek. He knew, somewhere in the back of his mind, that everyone was watching, but he didn’t so much care right now. The uproar grew loud enough that it pushed through the haze, and Eleven smiled through the questioning and Erik’s growing blush. 

The chaos died down eventually, just soon enough for Amber to come in with stew and cause an uproar all her own. She spun Erik and set him down on wobbly feet, before tossing a rather hefty sack of coins toward Gemma. 

“What was it,” Mia said, putting her feet on the table, “about Erik breaking his ass that made him pull his head out of it?” Eleven could see her gears turning, too fast for him to stop the train of thought. She whirled on Erik, nearly falling out of her chair in the process. “Oh my  _ shit, _ you’re limping because you got  _ fucked-” _

**Author's Note:**

> For context on the "wish" and "hungry" pun: [Here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OwZvwBo9RyQ) is the youtube video I accidentally came across when researching what "wish" looked like as I tried to Princess Bride that line.
> 
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